Ruptured
by luv animemanga forever
Summary: Life didn't exactly turn out the way he had expected it to. (This is my take on what happens afterward. Rating will change as the story progresses. Warnings inside.)
1. Chapter 1

**RUPTURED**

* * *

_By:__ azure7539_

_Pairing:__ William/Rita, William/OC_

_Genre:__ Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Family_

_Rating:__**M**_

_Summary:__ Life didn't exactly turn out the way he had expected it to._

_Warning:__ This is an __**AU **__and a __**SLASH **__as well, which contains an intimate relationship between men(mostly)... you'll see why this warning is here later on. So beware, people, those who aren't comfortable with this should leave before you read something you dislike/hate. And this will get __**DARK**__ because, apparently, I cannot write anything else other than that._

_**You have been warned!**_

_Disclaimer:__ I have not and will never own any of the characters in here. They are all borrowed from the movie "Edge of Tomorrow"._

_This story is based on the theory of William Cage absorbing the Omega's blood during the final battle before resetting once more back to the helicopter._

_Additional author's note:__ Because I have seen the movie once about a long month ago, some details are a little fuzzy, so the characters may be slightly OOC, and I apologize in advance for that. Message me if you find any obvious mistake regarding the movie verse, I'll do my best to fix it. _

_**And I don't have a beta and am looking for one**__. If anyone is interested, please message me. I will highly appreciate it._

_Now, enjoy!_

* * *

**1\. **_Fresh beginning_

* * *

Rita cautiously eyed the man that was walking back to the table with a tray in his hands. Major William Cage, he said. They met at the base before the launching of Operation Downfall while she was in the middle of her training. She could still clearly recall the wide goofy grin he wore when she stood up to greet him properly, as if he was very glad and relieved to have finally met her.

The reaction puzzled her a lot, considering she had never before seen his face in her life. Or maybe she had... eons ago while the war was still raging all over Europe. She could barely remember the faces of people that weren't her teammates, let alone an officer. Of course, she could always ride the excitement off to finally seeing the one they called 'The Angel of Verdun'... but then again, in the military, there was a reason why they prefered to use 'Full Metal Bitch' with her. And words had always traveled faster than anything else, that much was for certain, they all knew how 'stuck up' and 'unnecassarily serious' she could be. Therefore, this explanation didn't seem likely, and she crossed it off without a second thought.

Unsurprisingly, she saw him again the following day on the beach. He had informed her that they would soon meet once more since he would be joining in on the battle as well. Well, not that there was much of a battle left when their troups were met with such little resistence in comparison to the enemy's previous agression. However, he did surprisingly show quite an impressive range of skills while moving fluidly in the suit as though he had been in it for countless of times before.

Which didn't make sense at all. With his set of skills, they should have been in combat with each other, or, to the very least, she would have heard of him. Yet... here he was, a complete stranger to her as he maneuvered swiftly throught the terrain, shooting down all countered hostiles, and still managing to steal a look or two at her from time to time. Those weren't the kind of looks that were meant to merely be check-ups on one's teammates, not at all. They had seemed geniunely worried and had turned somewhat frightened whenever she wasn't in his direct line of sight. It was like he was anticipating that she would... drop dead at any given second.

And everything just felt so strange and waving too much over to the edge of an unfamiliar territory for her to specifically decipher what his ulterior motive was.

"Here you go," he said, setting down a cup of coffee before her along with three packs of sugar. Rita found her eyebrows furrowing again as her eyes darted from the cup to the man and back.

"Do you always get three sugar for everybody?" she asked, neglecting to thank him because the curiosity and slight suspicion in her was simply amplifying too quickly for common sense to be of much use.

Major Cage just smiled his stupid smile and shrugged, sipping his own brew leisurely and avoiding the question altogether. Gods, she hated ambiguous jerks, officer or not.

Setting her jaws, she had had enough of this, Rita thought to herself and was about to get up and walk away when she looked up and caught the anguish gleam his eyes before he averted them away hastily.

And something inside her just clicked.

"The surge of energy that was detected in Paris... the Omega was there, wasn't it?" she lowered her voice just enough for the question to remain just between the two of them.

The Major appeared startled for a brief moment but settling back to that irritating calm that she now knew was nothing but a mask, just something for him to hide behind. The conflict in his eyes was relatively apparent as she could literally see him contemplating the answer, throwing it around in his head and wondering whether he should even be telling her this or not.

Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, he whispered: "Yes," and those blue eyes flickering with a palpable turmoil of emotions. "We destroyed it. It's all over now."

A long, shuddered sigh of relief escaped her nostrils as she sat back in her chair for a bit. Thank the Gods, that meant no one had to die unnecessarily anymore.

_But then..._

Her eyes snapped open.

_That means-_

He was avoiding her gaze.

Rita felt her mouth go dry as she stared long and hard at the man sitting across from her, and suddenly, everything became perfectly normal again to her. She understood it now. "_We_? That includes you and I?" though the only answer she received as a quick nod, it was the only confirmation she required.

They were silent for a long moment, both lost in thoughts as the soldiers filtered in and out of the canteen, chatting and joking the whole way merrily about the victory they had had that morning.

It took her a while, but in the end, she took in a lungful of air and managed to force the question out of her throat. "How many times?" she just needed to know.

He stiffened visibly then swallowed the rest of his coffee without looking up then set the cup down once more, eyes staring off into the empty space just tipping off somewhere to her right. Those lips twitched, opening and closing without successfully uttering a single sound before a tongue swept out and licked them wet.

"Does it really matter?" he eventually said after a long time, somewhat breathless, looking up long enough for her to pick up on the tantalizing grief that was beginning to seep into his features. "I've long since lost count," and there was that certain note of resignation ringing in those words that made her want to shiver.

Anguish and despair so tangible that they wrapped around him like a transparent sort of misty veil. The veil of someone who had been made to watch over and over and over again as the people around them fell down to the ground lifeless and unmoving- dead and bloody- and no matter what they do to change things, it still happened, one way or another.

Fight. Die. Reset. Fight. Die. Reset. Fight. Die. Reset.

That was it. There was nothing more to that haunting endless cycle. Not at all.

If anything, it was like having to loop back and forth to the probably worst day of your entire existence.

Truth be told, it wasn't a feeling that she wanted to experience ever again, not if she could avoid it. And Rita looked at him, really looked at him since the first moment they met (to the best of her knowledge, of course), and saw herself all those months ago after Verdun, back when the emotional wounds were still too fresh, too painful, too raw and overwhelming.

And Rita sighed one more time, opening each pack and pouring the sugar into her coffee then brought it up to take a small sip. It was just the right taste with the right amount of sugar.

"Consider yourself lucky then, Major Cage," she said, trying to be slightly softer toward him. "At least, this time can be counted as a definite end to them."

She laughed a little- the kind that just escaped your nostrils in soft puffs of air- and it was his turn to stare at her, seemingly caught up with a memory that obviously had something to do with one of the resets. But then, slowly, he closed his eyes and chuckled as well, the low sound rumbling through his ribcage and throat like gentle waves of the sea. It sounded sort of nice, she quietly admitted to herself and resumed drinking.

"Cage, or William is fine," he said. And well, at least she got to see his second real smile after that first one in the training area. That was a good start as any.

* * *

After five years of cleaning up after the war, five years of opening up and getting to know one another, five years of being friends-turned-lovers... he was then down on his knee in front of her, eyes wide and hopeful. He seemed calm to the naked eyes, but she could tell how nervous he was from the way his body posture stiffened, movements jerky and wavering.

"Rita Vrataski," the ring gleamed in its velvet box. Gold and well-polished, simple but elegantly crafted. "Would you consider marrying me?" he asked, voice low and soft, the one he always used whenever he wanted to reveal something important to her.

She could tell how important this was to him, she could tell how long it had taken him to finally get to this point. Months ago, almost a year already, she had first started to notice changes in his behavior. They were subtle, but noticeable to her like how the edges of his smiles softened, how his eyes became more gentle and touches became more tender around her. How his hands often lingered that bit longer than usual on her shoulder, and how much more efforts he threw into the short amount of time off they got to make it as normal and domestic as he could for the both of them.

They were out in the park where she had first taken him anywhere on their third three-day-off together after having quite a few drinks in the pub nearby. The air then had been just as cold and chilly as it was now as he remained there on the ground in position, the tip of his nose and ears red from being exposed to weather like this.

Friends-turned-lovers. Rita mused to herself as she looked at him, contemplating inwardly if she would have even used the word 'lovers' herself to describe the relationship they were in had she been asked at all. Yes, they were friends, they talked and shared experiences about many different things with each other, laughing and drinking and joking around with one another. Yes, they kissed and made out and had sex from time to time, it was great, it was wonderful.

But did she want to marry him?

Then she remembered her father and the sad glint in his eyes when he came to visit weeks ago and told her she should settle down after holding her calloused hands briefly. She knew he loved her as much as her late mother did, knew how much they both would love to see her finally having a family of her own. After all, Aaron- her younger brother- was already married with two little brats now, so it was natural for her father to be worried about this, even more so when mother was longer there to help him.

"_William seems like a good man, Rita,"_ he had said once after going out to have a drink and the shovel-talk with Will a long while ago. Aaron had nodded in agreement with quite a confident smile. People liked William, they really did. He was nice, funny, sometimes cowardly, but always tried to do his best for others- for her when she needed him to.

And now, as he knelt there with arms still out-stretched, holding up the small jewelry box in his hands, his smiled wavered, blue eyes growing sad and dimmed and egded with a sort of helplessness of a person realizing how slim their chances at something were.

She remembered all the time he had made her laugh, she remembered the calls her father made to check up on her, she remembered how William had always been there for her to lean on whenever she was too tired to move on just yet.

She swallowed and licked her lips. She knew what should be said. Her mind flashed back to Hendricks, all the time she had seen him die gruesome deaths meaninglessly, over and over and over and over. She pushed that away, she pushed that painful twinge in her heart as his gentle smile bloomed behind her eyelids away. No more.

She knew this was the pathway to happiness.

"Yes," Rita said, the word almost got choked in her throat on its way out.

His eyes widened, genuinely surprised for a moment there at what had came out of her lips. "Rita?" her name foolishly fell out from his mouth. And she laughed.

"Yes, Will, I'll marry you."

For a few seconds there, it didn't seem like the words got registered into his mind, but then he smile broke into a wide, joyous grin.

For a few seconds there, she thought his blue eyes had shifted to green and hair turned golden. He stood up, and for a moment there, she had imagined him taller. And as the ring slipped onto her ring finger, for a moment there, Rita had hoped she would see Hendricks grinning at her when she looked up.

But Will was there with his goofy grin. And she told Hendricks to bugger off.

All was well.

* * *

The ceremony was small with only a few guests and close relatives, mostly from Rita's side of the family. Will had all but lost touch with his distant family members, no one had bothered coming to pick him up from the orphanage- he told her once- so why should he invite them now to ruin their big day? He waved the whole thing off with a wink and a smile before turning away to grab some tea for them both. And sometimes, it was hard to make out what was real and what was not with him, sometimes she could be dead-on with her predictions, but other times, she failed miserably. Therefore, she had been unable to determine at the time whether that part really didn't concern him at all like he had said... Their discussion about the wedding arrangements had been resumed afterwards, and she had let it slide.

The Father was commencing the ceremony, Rita looked up at him from their joined hands as he stood there, looking quite handsome in that tux, happy eyes staring straight into her own. Behind him was her brother, filling in the blank, and no one else.

"Will you, William Cage, take this woman as your lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, for better or worse, till death do you part?" the question rang in her ears, and his smile widened.

"I do," he said, the grip on her fingers tightened.

"And will you, Rita Vrataski, take this man as your..."

Her eyes swept back to the row of guests in the front, immediately spotting her father smiling at her, very happy and contented. And the same went to her brother as well, winking at her from behind Will with his stupid grin.

This was it.

This was it.

"Yes, I do," the Father said something else, but she couldn't hear those words anymore.

The rest of the world blurred out of existence as everything else condensed into this one single moment in life as he leaned down to kiss her, their lips touching, dry but soft as she felt his firm hand around her waist, pulling her close. Distantly, she heard the loud sound of clapping and cheering, laughing and whistling as well drowning in the background, buzzing in her ears.

"I love you," he whispered tenderly, passion mingled in his eyes, when they broke apart.

"I love you, too."

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**RUPTURED**

* * *

_By:__ azure7539_

_Pairing:__ William/Rita, William/OC_

_Genre:__ Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Family_

_Rating:__**M**_

_Summary:__ Life didn't exactly turn out the way he had expected it to._

_Warning:__ This is an __**AU **__and a __**SLASH **__as well, which contains an intimate relationship between men(mostly)... you'll see why this warning is here later on. So beware, people, those who aren't comfortable with this should leave before you read something you dislike/hate. And this will get __**DARK**__ because, apparently, I cannot write anything else other than that._

_**You have been warned!**_

_Disclaimer:__ I have not and will never own any of the characters in here. They are all borrowed from the movie "Edge of Tomorrow"._

_This story is based on the theory of William Cage absorbing the Omega's blood during the final battle before resetting once more back to the helicopter._

_Additional author's note:__ Because I have seen the movie once about a long month ago, some details are a little fuzzy, so the characters may be slightly OOC, and I apologize in advance for that. Message me if you find any obvious mistake regarding the movie verse, I'll do my best to fix it. _

_**And I don't have a beta and am looking for one**__. If anyone is interested, please message me. I will highly appreciate it._

_Now, enjoy!_

* * *

**2.**_ Loneliness_

* * *

_She was screaming. The high-pitched, scratchy sound emitting from her throat was deafening. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again, so see if this was real or not._

_She was screaming his name. Each time it resounded in the confined space, he felt as though the invisible hands around his neck was slowly tightening, suffocating him._

_"Bill! BILL!" she screamed, the syllables choked and broken as fresh tears rolled down from her eyes. "It hurts so much, Bill!"_

_He stared at the twisted figure on the bed, hidden underneath the thin layers of blanket, seeing but not seeing at the same time... then took a step backward. And another. And another._

_His back touched the cold hard wood of the door, the metal poking into his side almost painfully, then suddenly, he remembered how to turn the knob, fling the door open and escape._

_"Hey," a low voice rumbled through the thick and heavy air. From the brightly shining window on his right, he could tell it couldn't be anything more than noon, yet in here everything was so cold and chilling, and he had to suppress a shiver._

_At the small, uneven table in the middle of the room sat a man, all beat up and stank of liquor, disheveled hair and tousled clothing. His head was buried in the crooks of his folded arms on the wood surface of the table, but a small blue eye was peeking out, staring at him from within the darkness._

_Everything went quiet for a moment there, the screaming in the room next door ceased to exist also, but he couldn't tell whether he should feel relieved about it or not._

_In a fraction of a second, the chair tumbled back with a screech before falling harshly down to the floor, the screaming began again, all sound came back crashing over him like waves of a stormy sea. The man was up staggering on his feet, heading straight toward him with an intense look in those eyes that were partially hidden behind the curtain of dirty dark hair, footsteps heavy and loud on the old, creaking floorboards._

_And he foolishly stood there while holding back his breath. He honestly didn't know what to do._

_Paralyzed._

_There was a soft whimper in the background. His eyes widened as he turned around, a child was sitting there in the corner of the darkened room, crying with fat tears trickling down his cheeks._

_The man swept over him like a storm, entirely unaware of his existence at all, and instead approached that child and crouched down in front of him, frightfully close._

_He was murmuring something, that man, but he couldn't pick it up from where he was standing, the screaming beyond the wall was overriding every other sound. With a swallow, he finally moved forward, edging nearer and nearer until he was only one for two paces away from the pair on the floor. Just close enough for the last sentence to stream into his ears._

_"Listen to me well, Bill. Never be brave in life, you hear me, son? Never be brave. Be blind if you have to. You'll live better that you, you understand me? Do you understand me? Don't be brave, you'll get yourself killed. Be a coward, Bill. Be a coward..." the words came out of that mouth in a steady, unending flow, almost like a chant. "Do you hear me?!" those worn blue eyes were glittering as well, the hands on the child's shoulders trembled in the exact helplessness that rang in his voice._

_"Y-yes," the child replied, cracked and wavering._

_"Good," that large hand ruffled the child's hair. And suddenly, he could feel the warmth of that hand spreading on his head. His perspective of the whole room changed in a single second, and he found himself curled up in the corner, small and vulnerable as he looked at that man with teary eyes, watching as he got up from the floor and left._

_"D-Dad..." he croaked, but it didn't at all sound like him._

_The man stopped and turned to look at him again. And for the first time, a soft smile bloomed on his chapped and split lips, making the lines on his face more visible than ever before. He looked dead tired and weary. The smile was so sad and sorrowful that it hurt him right down to the core. _

_"Shh..." the gentle breath rushed from his mouth as he placed a finger onto those lips, signaling him to stay quiet. And he watched, watched as his Dad opened the door to the room where his Mum was writhing in pain, screaming and dying as cancer ate her up from the inside out. _

_He snapped his head away as the door clicked close, and resumed staring at the toy car with one of its wheels broken that he had picked up from the street the other day after seeing another kid throwing it away._

_Bringing his tiny hands up to cover his ears tightly, he rocked back and forth and started whispering all the things that accidentally popped up in his mind: a long forgotten song, a story his Mum and Dad used to tell him... anything, anything at all._

_Don't be brave... he told himself. Life didn't take well to people being brave. You'll get killed._

_Just be a coward, and you'll be fine. _

_Be blind, be a coward._

_Be blind, be a coward._

_Be blind, be a coward._

_And the screaming continued._

* * *

Will gasped awake. Everything in the room was blurry and out of focus, his head swam and slightly disoriented as he fell back to the pillow upon recognizing his room. Chest moving up and down, he tried to regulate his breathing to get himself back to the state of normal awareness as soon as possible.

Sometimes, it still felt like rousing from a reset. Sometimes, his head sang as though there was a bullet lodged deep inside his brain, twisting up his nervous system. Sometimes, he could still hear that haunting scream and the smell of liquor ghosting over his senses, overlapping even reality. Sometimes, he could still see Rita dead and lifeless behind his eyelids. And whenever that happened, he was bound to have a long and terrible day while sporting a pulsing headache that would not cease its vicious grip no matter what kind of medicine he used.

God, he groaned and stretched, rolling over to unsurprisingly find the right side of his bed cold and empty. Rita didn't come back last night, he knew, but it had become sort of a habit for him to check after waking up from sleep. Blindly reaching for a pillow, Will pulled it to his face and took in a lungful of her familiar scent and soft perfume to ease the heaviness in his body. The scent was almost gone, she hadn't been back too often recently, there was a case that she needed to work on.

A sigh escaped his nostrils as William finally pushed that disturbing dream away from his mind and loosened up his body muscles enough to actually enjoy the soft of the bed and the pillow pressing against his face. For a moment there, his mind was blank, no thoughts running, no gears turning or shifting, nothing. But slowly, as if on cue or something, a list of important stuff what needed to be done mentally appear in his mind one by one like a slideshow.

Groceries. Will tapped his right forefinger onto the mattress after each thing that was popping up... like doing a weird head-count of sort.

Laundry. The weekly visit to George- Rita's father... And Luke's soccer game.

Will smiled fondly at the thought. Luke was going to have his first soccer game. His son was going to have his first soccer game! It was just a small friendly game between elementary kids, but God damn, the excitement was still that hard to bear, especially when Rita was officially taking a day off work for it. How could he not grin at that anyways? Then, another list he had been musing over turned up as well.

A camera was a must. Sandwiches and juice as well, George- and maybe Aaron, too- was coming along with him and Rita after all... What else...?

The alarm went off, snapping Will out of his daze as he quickly got up and turned it off with a mildly irritated frown before hopping down to the floor, making up the bed and swiftly made his way to the bathroom.

A new day was here.

* * *

"Good morning, Papa!" Luke hopped down from the stairs and dashed into the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo," Will stirred the eggs some more before scooping all of it into the waiting plate. "Scramble eggs with sausages and toast."

"Yum!" the child exclaimed, settling himself down to his usual seat. Will chuckled and ruffled his hair as he pushed Luke's breakfast along with a glass of orange juice over to him.

"Eat up, Luke. Then I'll take you to school," the tap was turned on and clear water started flowing out from it in a steady stream as William began washing up the dishes from the previous night when he was too tired and lazy to clean them.

Since Luke was found conceived, William and Rita had talked it over and came to an agreement that it would be impossible to take care of a child when both of them were on active duty in the CO19. So Will- being the person who had had a real job other than serving in the military- had to drop out and started applying for one of those advertisement firms that had been springing back to life after the world had relatively begun to stabilize once more, when the cleaning up was mostly done and the UDF had been disbanded.

"Papa, where's mum? Is she at work again?" Luke piped up from the table behind him.

"Yeah. But don't worry, she'll be back soon, okay?" Will turned around to wink at his son with a smile.

"Okay," Luke giggled and resumed enjoying his food.

* * *

The phone was ringing, and Will had had half a hope of Rita picking it up until it got redirected to the voice-mail box. He sighed and waited for the familiar 'beep'.

"Hey, Rita. It's me," he said jokingly and laughed. "Uh... you didn't come home last night, everything okay? Just checking up on you is all... What do you want for dinner tonight?" he chewed on his lips, running out of things to say. "So... call me when you get this. Love you."

With that, he hung up.

* * *

Peter- his co-worker- kept going on and on about a plan that didn't seem the least bit plausible and appropriate, and Will resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes tiredly, reaching up to rub his temple for a little bit.

It had been four hours already, and she hadn't called him back.

* * *

Late lunch with the customers, Will had been smiling and talking till his jaws turned stiff, and they still weren't agreeing on closing the deal. Greedy bastards, his mind substituted. But it couldn't be helped... it was the rebuilding phrase and all, and people were just striving to get back what they had lost.

Twirling the noodles with his fork while Amanda took over to relieve his over-working throat, Will wondered if Luke had eaten all his food including the small amount of vegetables in it... he should check on that later on... And there were the sandwiches he had prepared for himself as well, totally unsuspecting that the meeting would be re-scheduled. He should put them in the fridge and reheat them next morning... it would still be edible, right?

"Mr. Cage," he snapped up, a smile not too wide or toothy automatically slipped onto his lips.

"Yes?"

The phone remained still in his pocket.

* * *

_"Anything is fine, Will,"_ Rita's voice replied from the other side of the line. Will grinned.

"You sure about that?" he asked, a cheerful note ringing in his voice despite the dull ache in his stiff back and shoulders. His wife finally called back before four, what more could he ask for?

_"Yes, I'm sure,"_ she made a fake exasperated tone, he could vividly see the way her lips would curl up at this.

"All right," his head was turning and tossing all the options he had at hand that moment. "How's work?"

_"Busy,"_ Rita sighed softly. _"There's been a couple of disturbances lately, nothing too serious, though. Many people have been triggering false alarm because they hear loud noises and such at night out in their yard... I think there're pranksters at large here, targeting random victims just to get the kicks of it."_

Targeting people's still ever present fear of another alien attack now that it had become painfully obvious that we were as alone in the universe as we were in a house full of children. Sometimes, it amazed Will how sick bastards like those could still continue to be sick bastards after that horrific war.

And a sigh escaped his lips, too. "Well, there'll be a slip up one way or another, and you'll be there to catch them..."

_"Yeah,"_ there was a noise in the background that sounded like a door opening and closing or something. _"I have to go now, I'll see you later, okay?"_

"Sure, see you later then, honey."

* * *

The night air was cool against his skin as Will focused his vision out into the darkness that was enveloping the entire neighborhood, searching for any signs, any sound at all that remotely resembled the sound of his wife's sedan pulling up.

Shifting on his feet with arms folded in front of his chest to keep his hands warm, Will turned around to look at the clock hanging on the wall inside his house. It was ten thirteen in the evening, and he had received not a call or anything to indicate that Rita was going to make it home or not. The bone-deep weariness that had started out with the awful nightmare that morning, accompanied with the stress from work and all of that was eating him up from the inside out.

"Guess the roast beef is joining the sandwiches then," he murmured to himself, lingering for a while longer before giving up and going back into the house, locking the door behind him.

Pushing everything into the freezer, Will eyed the stack of neatly arranged ham sandwiches and made a quick decision of taking one and shoving it down his mouth.

* * *

Crispy blanket settled down onto his person as Will closed his eyes and shivered, though he had just taken a warm shower, it didn't make it any less cold. The wind was blowing outside, and the gentle rustling of tree branches and their leaves filled in the empty silence. With Luke sound asleep and no one else to talk to, the house to him seemed painfully quiet and eerily dark. And... well, Will didn't like the darkness, not really... but since Rita could only sleep when the lights were out, he had learnt to get used to it a long time ago now, so it didn't bother him as much as it had before.

The lull of sleep was already dragging him under as Will stared at the vacant space next to him with heavy-lidded eyes, slowly drifting with a dull sense of loneliness that had been accumulating for a long, long time. But he flung it away into the furthest corner of his mind as he had always done and finally fell asleep. He didn't need that sort of negativity in his life, and especially in his line of work, that was for certain.

And with eight years of running around and working his way back into the real world, of looking after a child, raising him, feeding him and everything else... Will couldn't possibly have noticed the pair of eyes that burnt with the orange color of ranging flames quietly watching him from beyond the glass window that led out into the open balcony.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**RUPTURED**

* * *

_Pairing: William/OC, William/Rita_

_Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Family_

_Rating: **M**_

_Summary: Life didn't exactly turn out the way he had expected it to._

_Warning: This is an **AU **and a **SLASH **as well, which contains an **intimate relationship between MEN **(mostly)... you'll see why this warning is here later on. So beware, people, those who aren't comfortable with this should leave before you read something you dislike/hate. And this will get **DARK **because, apparently, I cannot write anything else other than that._

_**-Dubious content-**_

_**You have been warned!**_

_Disclaimer: I have not and will never own any of the characters in here. They are all borrowed from the movie "Edge of Tomorrow"._

_This story is based on the theory of William Cage absorbing the Omega's blood during the final battle before resetting once more back to the helicopter._

_Additional note: I updated this on a whim because I reread my own work and found that maybe I should continue it. _

* * *

**3.** _Accident_

* * *

"Go, Luke, go!" Will shouted at the top of his lungs even as the noises from the rest of the parents and spectators were drowning him out, hands on either side of his mouth as though forming a makeshift loudspeaker.

George was right beside him, cheering on as well. The day was cloudy, and it was just sort of perfect for a soccer game, what with the sun not glaring down so brightly and painfully at the children running in the field.

Because it was the first match between third graders, the discipline and formation were lacking notches, but then again, only obsessed people actually cared much about that shit in a kiddy's game anyway.

And as it turned out, Rita couldn't make it to the match. Something came up again at the office, she had told him through a phone call just fifteen minutes before Luke had to come into the field. William had reassured her that it was okay; if anything, the both of them, him and Luke, understood how unpredictable her work could become at times, especially with him having already worked in the same department for five years himself.

Honestly, domestic, peaceful life could sometimes turned out to be more of a handful and complicated than the one they had whilst at war, should William dare think so himself—with lunatics who thought it was a good idea to spike fear and distress in war-touched, traumatized people. They were all war-touched and traumatized by that extraterrestrial attack one way or another, but there were more positive methods to act it out other than triggering false alarms to prank people.

Therefore, he understood completely and was then recording everything on the new hand-held camera for Rita to see when she made it home, which he had made her promise to do so soon. Soon, as in within-the-day soon, not soon in as soon as possible.

God knew she buried herself in her work too much.

"Hey, Dad. Hey, Will."

Will snapped up to see Aaron squeezing through the row with Rose, his ten-year-old daughter, in tow. He grinned.

"Hey, Aaron." They gave each other a hug before Will turned to his niece and greeted the little girl. "And hello to you, too, Rose." Rose had always been a more active child than her older brother Tom, and so the little girl beamed at him toothily in that carefree, innocent way that children did, and slipped past her father to give him a hug.

"Hi, Uncle Will!"

He patted her back softly in return. Speaking of Tom… "Tom's still having that club activity you told me about, Aaron?" he asked once the two of their newcomers settled down.

"Trumpet practice, yeah." Aaron nodded, squinting to look at the scoreboard. "Who's winning?"

"Should that be the main question?" Will feigned a sceptical look at his brother-in-law, who returned it with a sly smile.

"Shouldn't it be, though?"

Will scoffed but smirked despite himself. "_We_ are, of course."

* * *

"No! There's no reason why I should be looking at any of your recordings because I know what I saw!" The father of one of the boys who had somehow tripped, fallen, and sprained his ankle for a bit was nearly screaming into his face, the man's face was red with a vein popping on his forehead as he accused Luke of deliberately kicking his boy down.

William was not impressed, if anything, he was bored and only slightly exasperated as he stood there with his arms crossed in front of his chest, one eyebrow raised. There were certain instances in which civility became quite a trying practice, like right then, for example. And he honestly felt like smacking the man, whoever the hell he was, in the face and be done with it.

But he was a good agent with near spotless track record in the ruddy second largest advertising firm in all of London, and he wasn't about to bloody snap over nothing like this. He had dealt with worse—much, much, much (_much_) worse—and the reason how they had transitioned as smoothly as they had done from being invaded by aliens to still living in their planet as the animal at the top of the food chain, was the testament to that.

Not to forget bitchy, demanding clients at work, of course.

Right.

"Sir." Will raised a placating hand to stop the man from spraying any more spittle into the space between them. "I was just telling you about my point of view in this, and how I have evidence, right here—" He gestured at the camera still strapped to his hand. "—to proof that your theory is false. Of course, whether you want to believe me or not is up to you, although I think it's best if we keep this a nice and easy game for the children and all parties involved."

The words rolled off of his tongue in streams of silk, and Will took Luke's hand, feeling measurably proud that he had, to the very least, kept his composure in front of his young son, something that would go a long way farther down his path of development.

He wasn't going to make the same mistakes as his own father had.

"Now, if you'd excuse us." With that, he walked away, smiling at Luke to follow him. The child looked a little pale and flustered, but he smiled back nonetheless as Will gave him a wink.

But just as they had made their way back to Grandpa George, something caught Will's ears: "Fucking _losers_."

The hiss was vile and vicious, and he was already turning sharply on his heel before he even registered it, striding back to said enraged man.

"What did you just say?"

The man, who seemed to have just turned away quickly himself after spitting that sort of remark out into the open, whirled back with a sneer on his face, looking as every bit prepared to engage himself into whatever it was that was about to go down next. "What?!" he snapped.

Will's eyes narrowed. "I said, 'what did you just say?'" he growled.

There was a pause… and then, somehow, for some sort of reason, the man stiffened, blanched, and took a step back before scurrying away altogether toward where his own son was having his ankle checked out by the coach.

Someone snatched Will's wrist. "William."

He whipped around, Aaron's features filling his momentarily bleary vision.

"Yes?" he muttered, still confused by what had just happened with the other parent, as his eyes flickered down to Aaron's tight, lingering grip.

His brother-in-law finally relented. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Of course I am." He shot Aaron an incredulous look. "And I don't know." He shrugged, forefinger scratching a little at his cheek. "The man just… left."

With that he focused his attention back onto Luke. "Don't listen to what that mean man said, okay, son?"

George watched as Will talked to his son and headed over to where Aaron was standing.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Aaron blinked, reaching for Rose. "Nothing, Dad… I just… I thought I just saw Will's eyes turn... black." He picked his daughter up with a slight frown to his brows.

That got George frowning, too. "Must be a trick of the light," the man concluded after sometime.

Aaron nodded and murmured, "Yeah, I thought so, too."

That was the only logical, possible, explanation.

They picked Tom up from Trumpet practice and went back to the Cage household for barbecue afterward.

* * *

"All right, kiddo," Will smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to Luke's forehead. "Sleep tight."

"G'night, Papa," whispered Luke sleepily, which got the quirk in Will's lips widened. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Luke."

It was a bit easier to wrestle Luke into bed that night (not in the literal sense of it, though Luke was quite an active child in his own right), considering the soccer game just that afternoon, and if Will were to be honest with himself, he was beat as well. Though more of because of the outdoor barbecue they had later on, along with a few pints with his in-laws.

Switching on the sleeping light and stealing another glance at his son who was already drifting off, Will quietly closed the door to the bedroom and crept away.

The dishes were still a stack in the sink when he got back down to the living room, but he couldn't give a damn right then really as he grabbed his unfinished beer and flopped down to the sofa, turning the television back on.

Rita didn't seem like she was coming home that night either, and a soft sigh escaped his nostrils in a slow, gradual rush.

Absently tapping his forefinger at the glass of the bottle, Will made up his mind and hauled himself up to begin commencing on loading the video he had recorded of Luke's first soccer match to the player and ultimately the TV because, really, the camera's screen was just too bloody small to completely enjoy the entire rewind for what it was.

That done, he scoffed with a petty sense of achievement (because if he could wield an exosuit like a second skin, he wasn't about to let a mere player get the better of him) and settled back down, pressing 'Play' on the remote control.

Background noises were loud, nothing out of the ordinary there, but the quality of the captured footage was beautiful, and already, he was grinning like a fool…

Small happiness, he told himself. Small happiness.

* * *

Driving back home a little late on Monday made Will suppose he should be happy that Natalia, Aaron's wife, was there to pick Luke up from school for him, along with her two kids, whenever something came up suddenly and he couldn't make it back in time.

The drive back from central London didn't have too much traffic, because there were still needed to be done even after thirteen years of rebuilding after the sort of devastation they had had. And the road got even quieter and less crowded the nearer he got home because the small town they lived in was wonderful if only a little far from the city.

_"Ooh… I feel love. I feel love. I feel love. I feel love,"_ Donna Summer was singing on the radio, and he was tapping his finger on the steering wheel along to the electronic beats, eyes forward to the empty road ahead, a faint, barely there smile on his lips.

It was just a little after five, and he was about fifteen minutes away from home… when the dark shadow of something jumped out right in front of his car.

Will's eyes widened, his foot slamming onto the brake as the car swiveled sharply out of control with a high-pitched screech, spinning off course and crashing into a nearby tree. His head jerked forward, jolting against the steering wheel, but it was the burst of the airbag that actually disoriented him in the end.

He groaned. What the fuck was that?

Fumbling for the safety belt, he discharged it from the lock, pushed the door open, and fell out of the car gracelessly to the ground, which didn't help with the dizzy spell that was washing through him right then.

Suddenly, the world shook for a moment; a shiver shot up along Will's spine, and everything went black after that.

* * *

_The frequency with which he dreamt about his childhood these days was growing rather unsettling, and Will no longer had any idea on what to think as he stood there like an outsider looking in on the miserable story of his own childhood._

_The child on the single bed was crying again, pathetic, small sniffles emitting from its throat in choked hiccups. But it wasn't home anymore, and neither of its parents was going to come for it. Its father had been shot dead on his way back home from work, and its mother followed not too long afterward._

_No relative came to pick him up at the orphanage because, frankly, who would? They couldn't make ends meet as it was, taking another child in was nothing short of signing their own death certificates._

_And so Will stood there, staring at the sobbing child, who had just gotten bullied by the other children, feeling just a little numb and not knowing that the hell he was supposed to do right then._

_Then, out of nowhere, arms slipped around him from behind and held him tight, steadily and firmly as though trying to pull together whatever fragmented pieces of him that he had never been able to put back into their rightful places._

_"It's going to be okay, William," came the soft whisper in his ear, gentle and more Goddamn reassuring than anything he had ever heard in his entire life. "I'm here now."_

_The words had him shuddering involuntarily and almost violently in sheer relief._

_It took him three seconds to realize… that wasn't Rita's voice he had just heard._

_"-ill?"_

_"W-ill."_

_"Will!"_

"Will!"

He snapped his eyes opened with a gasp, lashes fluttering in a frantic haze, as air rattled almost loudly in his ribcage.

"Will?"

Blearily, he looked over to the source of that familiar voice, hearing Rita even before seeing her sitting there… by the bed? What?

"R-Rita?" he croaked, voice uncomfortably hoarse and tongue thick in his mouth.

"Shh…" she inexplicably began to soothe, reaching up to stroke his cheek now, and it was then that his vision cleared enough for him to see the grim, stern note in her features. The smell of detergent filled his flaring nose, and everything sort of clicked into place.

Hospital. Car accident.

"What's… What happened?" he asked quietly.

"You don't remember?" That was a genuine question itself.

Will shook his head. "Not much," he admitted with a sigh, eyes somehow itching from tiredness even though he had obviously just woken up. "I…" He frowned, focusing, but the pulsing in his head became loud and throbbing, hindering his concentration. "I was driving home a little late… I just asked Natalia to pick Luke up…"

The lyrics of I Feel Love sprang to his mind. "I was listening to Donna Summer." Will laughed a little at this, looking over at his wife whose grave expression seemed to have lightened up somewhat at his antics, before frowning at the next part of his blurry memory. "Then something just… jumped out into the road right in front of the car… I braked and lost control of the steering wheel… and…"

What happened next?

"I got out of the car somehow, and I just… That's it… I can't remember anything after that." He heaved another sigh. "Must have blacked out somehow."

Rita was quiet for a few beats, her lips pressed thin. She looked worn with circles under her eyes, and he suddenly felt bed for doing this to her… even though he couldn't have possibly foreseen this happening. Still, though, she had already had enough to worry about as it stood.

"How did you find out?"

"Luke called," she replied, sighing herself, her blue eyes glinting as it caught a ray of dim light from the small lamp in the darkened ward. He was still a veteran and a former CO19—Central Operator Sector 19—so of course they had given him a private room. "He said he couldn't reach your phone, and it was already seven. So I drove home to look for you."

"Oh…" Then... what? He was out for… two hours? How? "Is it bad?" He feigned a dramatic voice, which got a soft chuckle from her.

"No," she scoffed halfheartedly. "Just bruised and barely a scratch."

He chuckled back, she leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Rest, Will," Rita whispered. "We'll go home tomorrow."

"Okay…" Will nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

_To be continued..._


End file.
